Eavesdropping
by clair beaubien
Summary: What can I say? Ketch is eavesdropping on the Winchesters. What he has to listen to is his own fault.
1. Chapter 1

A timid underling knocked on the door to the room where Mr. Ketch was listening to the bug set in the American's Bunker.

"Excuse me? Hate to bother you, sir, but Dr. Hess would like to know what you've learned about the Americans."

The underling expected Mr. Ketch to be annoyed at the interruption. Outraged perhaps. Deadly even. But the expression on his face was one of exhaustion as he pulled the headset off.

"Apparently it's a 'down' day for the Winchesters, as they've spent three hours indulging in a 'Three Stooges' marathon, followed upon by not one but _two_ Marx Brothers movie. They then engaged in a quite heated argument over the merits and failings of Curly, Shep, Gummo and Zeppo, after which one of them, in a fit of pique, slammed a _colossal_ book on the table, nearly shattering my ear drums in the process."

As he spoke, the agitation in his voice and manner increased until finally he threw the headset on the console, barking,

"And who the _bloody_ hell is Francis?"


	2. What they said What he heard

"Hey, Dean! Come look at this!"

Dean was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner when Sam called for him. He turned the burner on the stove off and went in search of his brother.

"Where are you?"

"Over here, at the telescope. Look at this."

Dean walked to where Sam was crouched down next to the telescope. When he looked where Sam was pointing, he saw that some long-dead weisenheimer had carved a 'Kilroy was here' picture on the inside of one of the legs of the telescope stand.

"We've had this thing four years and you only just spotted that now?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, because I spend so much time on it," Sam answered. "I'm going to keep looking. See what else I can find."

"No, c'mon. I'm just about to put dinner on the table. You can play with your telescope later."

"Ha. Ha." Sam shot Dean a bitch face but followed him out to the kitchen.

= = = SPN = = =

Ketch pulled the headphones off and stared at them.

He shook his head and stared at them some more.

"But – I looked through that telescope. I couldn't see a thing."

.


	3. He warned her

Ketch sat in his chair, hands pressed down on the desktop, controlling his breathing and gritting his teeth, as Dr. Hess paced back and forth behind him.

She held the transcripts of the Winchester bugging in her hands and was reviewing them critically.

"I am quite disappointed in your efforts so far, Mr. Ketch," she intoned. "We placed this wire in order to gain intelligence on the Winchesters, but these results are spotty at best and quite frankly dismal overall."

She rolled the papers into a tight tube and used it to sharply rap the desktop.

"Please explain these results, Mr. Ketch."

He swallowed thickly, took a moment and a deep breath, before answering. "The Winchesters are a unique and, I would say complicated, target to breach. Their communicative style, even between themselves, is -"

"No excuses!" Dr. Hess snapped. "There is nothing complicated or special about the Winchesters! Your listening procedures are obviously substandard."

"Here." He offered her a headset and pointed to a switch. "This is yesterday's recording. May 2nd. I would be most interested to learn what information you are able to glean from it."

With an exasperated huff, she put the headset on and pressed the switch to begin the replay.

* SPN * SPN * SPN *

On the way from bedroom to kitchen, Dean gave a fast glance into the library. Just like he expected, Sam was at the table, already a few hours into research if the scattered books, papers, sticky notes and coffee stains were anything to go by.

Sam didn't look up and Dean didn't say anything. It was Sam's birthday but Dean didn't say anything. They hadn't heard from Mom, despite Dean's frequent, secret phone calls to her in the past few days. So, Sam was glum. Not just depressed – glum.

In the kitchen, Dean made French toast, fresh coffee, and lots of bacon. He loaded up a tray and brought it to the library and set it near Sam.

"Winchester Special."

Sam smiled, tired, sad, but genuine. "Thanks."

Dean patted his shoulder, helped him push the papers and books aside, and served up breakfast.

"Anything?" he asked, nodding to the research, sitting down and taking a bite of French toast.

"Mmmm..." Sam answered with a tip of his head and a mouthful of coffee.

Dean wanted to reassure him that they'd hear from Mom. That she'd remember and realize that it was his birthday. That the day wouldn't turn out as crappy as crappy could be if she _didn't_ call.

But promising that only to have it go bust would be worse than silence.

So, they ate in silence, then, "Done?" and Sam nodded, "Thanks," that was thanks for more than bringing breakfast and cleaning up.

Dean carried the dishes back to the kitchen and set them in the sink and put the tray away. He decided that Sam wasn't going to spend his birthday stuck inside, stuck in a chair, stuck in a book. Today was going to be a good day for Sam. A Very Good Day.

He left the dishes, grabbed Sam's jacket from his room, and went back to the library.

"All right. Let's go."

"Go? Dean – " he gestured at the books and papers and notes he'd pulled around himself again.

" _Ahh_ – nope. C'mon." He tossed Sam's jacket to him and headed for the stairs to the front door and the world beyond. In a few moments, Sam followed behind him.

Dean was going to make sure they didn't get home until the day was over and Sam was happy.

* SPN * SPN * SPN *

Dr. Hess pulled the headset off and stared at it. She handed it back to Ketch.

"Just – keep listening."

She marched off and Ketch put his headset back on. "I'd rather eat glass."

.


End file.
